


Correspondence

by Aithilin



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1587185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t a sudden proposal. They had spent every summer since uni together, despite Victor being abroad for most of the year. It had been asked before— in bed, on walks, as jokes when it first started.</p>
<p>This was the first time in a hospital though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Correspondence

"Marry me."

"No."

It wasn’t a sudden proposal. They had spent every summer since uni together, despite Victor being abroad for most of the year. It had been asked before— in bed, on walks, as jokes when it first started.

This was the first time in a hospital though.

"I can do it if you marry me. If I had you."

"No."

As Victor adjusted the bed, checked the blanket, and left on time for visiting hours to end (despite the promise of no trouble if he stayed later), he tried very hard not to look at Sherlock.

"Please. I can do it if you’re here."

"No." He paused at the door, and didn’t turn. He didn’t want to remember Sherlock like this: string thin and suffering withdrawal. He didn’t want to remember the vibrant, clever man he knew just about to die. But he hesitated all the same; "Don’t talk to me until you’re clean."

It was two years before he got the first letter. It arrived during the first big harvest he had to manage, the first big return from the plantation he had to wrestle from his father’s lawyers. And the letter sat on his desk for two months.

Another came shortly after he remembered the first. Apparently encouraged by a DCI in London who thought it would help Sherlock recover.

The response Victor sent back was simple enough. “I found your site.” And his personal email.

He liked that Sherlock sent letters more often than emails. He liked the careful, precise script of the man he could start to let himself remember again. He knew that it was a way for Sherlock to prove himself— his hand was steady, his thoughts in order.

They avoided the topic of Victor’s leaving, though he told Sherlock about the plantation and business, about how hard it was to manage fair work and profits to live on. He read about Sherlock’s adventures with a very patient (now) DI Lestrade, and sometimes looked up just what was going on in London. He offered advice on Sherlock’s experiments, and sent pictures of what he could find that might interest his clever friend.

They didn’t talk about family. Victor refused to discuss his father as the lawyers handling his estate renewed claims the more successful the business grew. It was an annual thing now, but Victor could finally afford his own lawyers to fight his battles of inheritance for him. But in the end, it all settled with him giving up claims to the large estate and holdings in Norfolk, keeping the business but losing all investments taken in his name before the falling out, and keeping the little cottage in the Sussex downs. He thought he came out of it on top— he had his home and livelihood; and the lawyers in London were eventually exposed in scandal by NSY based on an anonymous tip that set off a frenzy of betrayals in the firm.

Victor thanked Sherlock.

They were in contact for three years before Sherlock visited. Seeing him, healthy and vibrant and himself again, Victor fell in love.

It was during one of Victor’s visits to London that he realized how much he had missed his best friend.

"Marry me."

Sherlock smiled— the bright, happy smile from their youth together.

"Okay."


End file.
